


10 Days of Grief (At the end of this, we'll be Smiling)

by tamagoyaki



Category: Act-Age (Manga)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagoyaki/pseuds/tamagoyaki
Summary: What if Kei never returned from Galactic Railroad?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	10 Days of Grief (At the end of this, we'll be Smiling)

**Author's Note:**

> Was working on this when that event happened.  
> Hesitated to post this so many times. I read it again and again, but in the end, I think I owe it to my past love for Act-Age to share this with fellow grieving fans.  
> It is not completed, so the grief never ends. But hopefully, the emotions are raw enough to remind someone of that arc.

Day 1

She didn’t cry. Yonagi, that is.

In the midst of the storm that followed after Opening Night, every member – both temporary and permanent – of the Tenkyu Troupe piled into every vehicle they could get their hands on. On their way to the hospital, some were praying, their hands tightly interlaced and tears streaming down their faces. There were some comforting the younger ones; some who stared out the windows with blank eyes, either not willing to believe the news, or just waiting to see his body with their own eyes.

Araya was one of the latter ones. He thought she was the same too, given how she’d arrived bearing news of his hospitalization.

She wasn’t.

With the backdrop of lightning illuminating the room and thunderous roars of thunder threatening to overtake the sounds of everyone’s wails, whimpers, sobs, Yonagi merely stood at the outskirts of the troupe, watching on with pained, unaverting eyes.

Kuroyama Sumiji was a constant presence by her side, solid and unrelenting, all slouching back and casually crossed arms.

Later on, Araya would wonder what they were whispering to each other about. But for now, he was the closest to Iwao Yujiro’s immediate vicinity. Head bowed, arms numb and hanging limply by his sides, he gazed down upon the serene face of the old man who he owes his life to – who should never look as blissful as he was now. Tears streaming down his face, he bit his lips, gritting out through his teeth after a long time.

“…Look how happy you are.”

- _Even though you’ve left us behind._

Eyes dry, Yonagi watched them cry into the night (-while being unable to cry herself, crying deep down inside.)

.

Day 2

The air stunk of cigarettes and cheap booze when he woke.   
That was a fragment of the past.

Just when Iwao’s voice seemed a syllable away from ‘waking’ him up, the slightly obnoxious, shrill cries of young children pierced through his dreams.

Dull blues snapped open to the laughter of twin children, screaming and laughing about various unimportant things.

“That smell…” Rei’s tiny button nose twitched. “Is that, maybe, bacon, Nee-chan?!”

“Bacon!” Stars popped up in Rui’s eyes at once, the mini drool machine instantly working at max efficiency. The little monster who had been crouching over him, poking and prodding at his face with a sharpie, abruptly spurred into action. Stout hands and socked feet clambered over Araya with all the clumsiness of a little one, tossing all thoughts of Araya’s comfort to the backseat in favour of getting to the bacon even half a second faster.

Only when the little shrimp was properly seated, then did Araya remember. He had let Kuroyama drop him off at the Yonagi household last night for ease of transport to the theatre today.

“Good morning, Araya-kun.” Yonagi sat down with a plate of food at the circular low table. She was already chewing, and even lecturing, “Come on over and have your breakfast here. It’s bad manners to have breakfast in bed, you know?”

“You know?” Rui echoed with a happy little giggle.

“Giovanni-nii-chan, if you don’t come quick, your breakfast’s gonna cool down!” Rei added in a hearteningly concerned tone.

And Araya couldn’t help it. He stared, flagrantly, obviously.

“…Did you cry again last night?” Now that he knew Iwao’s ‘secret teachings’, he was sure Yonagi cried that night on the party boat.

However, instead of the brusque spluttering he expected all in bad attempt to conceal the truth, Yonagi merely looked unperturbed.

“No. I’ve already accepted it long ago.” Something about the factual way she said that struck him as odd. Before he could put his thumb on it, Yonagi was already waving his chopsticks at him, “Hurry up and eat already, ‘Giovanni’! We’ve still got another play to get to today!”

“Eh? Nee-chan, you’re going to act as Campanella again today?”

“No fair! I want to see!”

Araya was left in the metaphorical dust in a heartbeat. Still slouching under the thick futon blanket with his sleep-loosened ponytail more a mess than usual, Araya stared at her for a moment. Wasn’t there something really wrong with that…? He shook it off thereafter and crawled forward though.

“Alright, alright.” The plastic chopsticks she handed him were solid in his grasp.

.

The ride to the theatres was uneventful.

Kuroyama Sumiji gave him a look like he’s got something to say when they were alighting, but besides that, there was not much else.

Half the troupe nursed eyes the size of duck eggs when they arrived. The other half were pulling out all stops to extort the former for 10 bucks every hour they cried. Something about the cost of cover-up make-up and to literally cover and make up for the cost of the drinking party they’d planned after the play. Araya had heard none of that. (His inclination towards getting a phone was not getting bolstered any by this event.)

Nevertheless, when Day 2 of the run was over and clean-up had commenced, Araya turned and picked out Yonagi and Hoshi from the crowd.

“Yonagi and Hoshi-ku—I mean, Hori-kun. You guys are coming with us.” He waved them over.

“It’s Hoshi! This time, it’s definitely intentional, isn’t it?! Or rather…” Hoshi exchanged hesitant looks with a reluctant Yonagi. “You _do_ know we’re technically minors, right?”

“You don’t get it.” Araya heaved an open-mouthed sigh. “That’s exactly why I’m bringing you.”

Two hours later when the troupe was reduced to a clan of drunkards hiccupping, chortling, and giggling like a bunch of high school brats, Hoshi honestly couldn’t even bring himself to feel surprised anymore. He yelped when Nanao plastered herself all over him. Tried to crawl himself back like the little virgin he was. A ‘truth or drink’ session was also underway at the same time, but what classed as said ‘truths’ have to be a complain, a secret moment shared with Iwao, or some previously unknown fact about the guy. Poor sop couldn’t be left to rest easy even after his death. Araya reckoned he’d be rolling in his casket right about now.

“—*hic* What was up with that, Akira? That totally isn’t a secret! Now, drink! Drink up!” Nanao swigged a beer in his face.

“What are _you_ saying? I’m a minor, you know? AH! Irresponsible adults sure are troublesome!” Hoshi shrieked.

Nanao faltered for a beat, luring in her prey. Just when Hoshi had his guard down, she pounced and dragged her hand up his cargo pants.

“In that case, strip!”

“HAH?!”

“This will be a special edition of ‘Truth or Strip’ just for you and Kei! Now, hurry up and strip, Handsome~♡!”

“Roger!” Kametarou readily pulled off his shirt.

“Gross.” Nanao’s deadpan even when drunk drew a ticked mark out of him.

“Yonagi-kun, you don’t really have to do as this woman says-?!” Hoshi suddenly yelped.

Beside Araya, Yonagi had already procured the hair tie from her wrist and slapped it proudly on the table.

“Awfully tame of you there, isn’t it?” Araya remarked.

“Eh?” An awfully innocent smile, spectacularly oblivious to the vile intentions of his troupe mates. “Next is your turn, Araya-kun! What will you choose? Drinking? Will you choose drinking?”

“Ehhh~? I wonder what I should do?” Araya eyed the uncapped sharpie in her hand pointedly.

“Yonagi-kun? Araya-san-?? Anybody?! Anyone with some sanity remaining?! Please save me!!” Hoshi wailed under the excited squeals of a highly excitable woman (in more ways than one) and the jealous war cries of an intoxicated turtle.

‘That hour truly lasted an eternity’… - as Hoshi would say.

“Really! Why did you bring us along?” Hoshi sulked thereafter during the clean-up session, gathering sake bottles around downed bodies.

“Sowwie~” Araya intentionally slurred.

“Don’t you act cute with me!” Man, Hoshi really was like a housewife, though Araya shouldn’t say that out loud.

The first reason why Araya brought them along was simple yet hard to say. Even if they automatically counted themselves out due to their ages, these two were still part of Tenkyu Troupe whether they knew it or not; Everyone had already acknowledged them. Even if Araya did not extend the invitation, Kametarou would most likely have gotten to them in one way or another.

As for the second reason… That was purely Araya’s own selfishness. He didn’t want to be the only one sober the night after Iwao died so he brought along these minors – Someone had to be there to keep watch over the drunkards now that Iwao was no longer here. And yet, when the time came to drink, he still found himself unable to touch that the first cup.

Still, to say that aloud when the rest have already knocked themselves out… It was a little embarrassing, so Araya didn’t want to answer.

“If we’re going to play 20 Questions, I’d like to shoot a question too.” Araya sat Kametarou’s corpse down none too gently. The conked-out turtle’s head tipped to the side, dead. “Why didn’t you complain back there, Yonagi?”

“Eh? Why didn’t I complain…?” Yonagi parroted where she was wiping up the drunkards’ faces, wide eyes surprised.

“You. Even if you’re trying to evade the question, couldn’t you make it subtler?” Hoshi was already side-eyeing him dubiously.

“Then in that case. Why is Hori-kun always so susceptible to Nanao’s feminine wiles~?” Araya obliged with a wry smirk at Hoshi’s peeved glare.

“I… I wonder why…?” Pretty amethysts were wide. The confusion in her voice caught Araya’s and even Hoshi’s attention mid-way into the start of another bicker. “I guess… I couldn’t come up with a complain about Iwao-san… that’s why I chose to strip?”

Even though those were her feelings, somehow, Yonagi seemed surprised with herself.

“…Heeh. That would be a first. Even for the real famous stars out there who owe their entire careers to Iwao-san, everyone generally has one or two things they want to complain about that person, you know?” Araya moved on to transport his next drunkard. “You must either be stupidly nice or just plain old stupid to like everything about the old geezer.”

“Araya-san, like always, could you please watch your phrasing—” Baby-coddler Hoshi’s brows twitched. He was at it again.

“—But how do you decide whether someone is stupid anyways?” Yonagi caught them off guard with that question, uncharacteristically inquisitive as she tipped her head to the side. “To begin with, I think it’s a waste of time complaining about people’s ills when you could spend time understanding them and making friends with them instead. If you were to ask me, I would say you’re the stupid one, Araya-kun.”

Her tone was not offended or preaching. As a matter of fact, it was nothing but kind and informative.

It was that very same, _familiar_ tone which chilled him to the core and had Hoshi snap his head back to them.

“Huh…? Yonagi?” Hoshi even lost the honorific for once.

“Hm?” Yonagi looked up from where she was wiping Nanao’s tear tracks. Never had Araya been so relieved to see her stick her tongue out at him rebelliously. Yet, while Hoshi heaved a sigh and turned back to the sake bottles, muttering about his imagination under his breath, part of Araya couldn’t forget – Hoshi had not _seen_ Yonagi when she said those things.

(That was Campanella, in the flesh.)

“You’re not going to do that?” Araya squatted next to her.

Yonagi looked up crossly at him till he mimed a drawing action. From there, this beautiful weirdo of a talent grew all rosy-cheeked and innocent on him. She pulled out a sharpie, grabbed him by the forearm, and her shoulders shook with silent laughter as she pulled him over to Kametarou.

“Oh no. You’re not doing that. Not under my watch.” Hoshi deadpanned, arms crossed, facing them.

“Gh-! Akira-kun-?!”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut if you do it to Nanao-san this time. So add a ‘drunk cougar’ in there, if possible.” Hoshi sulked.

“D-Don’t ask the impossible of us!” Yonagi gave it to him straight.

“You’re not scared we’d put a ‘by Hori-kun’ there?” Araya half-grinned, teasing the prim and proper actor.

(Araya’s not so sure he could avert his eyes this time. Not when it costed them Iwao the first time around.)

.

Day 2 – Monday

In his dreams, Iwao accosted him.  
Those were fragments of memories of idyllic, peaceful days – of back when he had a home to return to.

When he blinked awake, it was to half his sheets dragged down the ground by his upper torso; half his legs dangled precariously off the edge of the bed while he was still wrapped like a half-assed burrito.

Faced with the iridescent skies which basked light upon him through that tiny square window, Araya raised a hand and dropped it upon his face.

“…Shut it already.” The grumble came in a raspy croak.

He could still sense his presence in this room, even if he was truly gone.

Breakfast.

Araya pulled on a hoodie and chucked a few pieces of bread in the toaster. The differences from his usual routine? : The lack of Iwao calling (his house’s phone) and hollering him out of bed; the lack of Iwao sending his housekeeper to deliver a healthy homemade breakfast to him; the lack of the usual morning practice to keep in shape during runs – as everyone’s probably puking rainbows and mosaics after that huge drinking fest last night.

“Hm?” Araya squinted into his toaster and made a face at the charred pieces.

The differences after Araya chomped down his breakfast in distaste? : Having to look through the pile of work offers Iwao had already been badgering him about since weeks prior; Glancing at the clock periodically; Remembering that mansion with a reflexive ache in his legs and brushing off all thoughts of visiting – It’s too much, especially now that he was no longer there– Flipping through pre-delivered scripts; Losing track of time when he got too in-depth into character study; Hurrying out with a slightly hastier step than normal to somewhere besides the much frequented Yujiro manor, theatre, and practice location—

“…Araya-kun? There isn’t practice today, right? What are you doing here?” Yonagi returned fabulously late, the twins at either of her sides.

Araya was at his wits’ end, face terse as he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“…Yonagi,” He forced out. “May I use your washroom?”

“Huh? Okay, but—?” Yonagi donned a blank face which practically had a huge question mark scrawled on as she led the kids in.

Multiple toilet flushes later, Araya was a worn corpse half-collapsed against Yonagi’s living room wall.

“Are you okay, Onii-chan?” Rei asked, deeply concerned.

“Really, what did you eat to get yourself into this state?” Yonagi sweatdropped, her blank eyes decidedly judging.

“Toasts.” Araya answered flatly.

“Ahaha! How did you make such a toast, Giovanni-Nii? We make toasts all the time but it’s nothing like the great cannon you made! Teach Rui too so Rui can show off to his friends!” Rui’s eyes practically sparkled with awe.

Araya couldn’t deny those eyes, “A loaf of bread, and a month of waiting—”

“Rui, this Nii-chan is what they call an idiot, you got it? You must never grow up to become like him.” Yonagi was already teaching her boy.

“Ehhh? But why?? Giovanni-Nii looked really cool onstage too!” His boy Rui argued, upset.

“If you imitate him, Rui, you’ll get a huge stomach-ache too!” Rei wholeheartedly supported her older sister. “And you’ll get in trouble with the teachers at school if you give it to your friends too!”

“Aww, shucks.”

Araya eyed them and steadied Rui by the shoulder when he tumbled back against his side. This overly trusting kid really had no defences.

“Yonagi—” He began.

The abysmal growl originating from his hellhole of a stomach interrupted whatever he had to say. Araya pressed a hand to his tummy.

“…I’m hungry.” He finished.

“…Yes. You always are when you visit my place.” Yonagi concluded, dumbfounded. In the end, she sighed and resigned herself to feeding him but also harrumphed as she brought her ingredients up to eye level. “Even so, look and be amazed, Araya-kun! You are in luck today! Tonight’s dinner will be teriyaki chicken and grilled eel don! I managed to snag us some high-quality ingredients at low price!”

“OOOOOHHH!!!” Araya unabashedly joined the twins in getting excited this time.

Fifteen minutes later, Araya quickly learnt camaraderie over food was cheaper than tissue paper to kids these days.

“What are you doing over here?” With just one blanch, Yonagi made it blatantly obvious she wanted him nowhere near her kitchen.

“Your sister kicked me out saying I’m no help in their kindergarten schoolwork.” Araya quoted.

“Rei did? Well, I’ll have you know! Rei is _very_ good at her schoolwork!” Yonagi boasted, huffing with pride.

“Do you look down on my academic abilities that much, or do you genuinely think that highly of your younger sister?” Araya deadpanned.

“Eh.” Yonagi peered at him, not getting his point.

“I give. You’re just like that thick-headed old man when he’s partying.” Araya remarked, finally sighing. “Look, Yonagi. You are a lot smarter than what most people give you credit for. So there’s no way you’re not doing this intentionally.”

Iridescent violet eyes finally turned to look up at him.

“What are you talking about?” She asked.

“Drowning yourself metres deep, keeping yourself in the role even outside the play… is what I’m saying.” Araya craned his head, meeting her gaze head on. “Your slip ups which occurred yesterday – Those things usually don’t occur unless the actor was constantly improvising how the character would react in their mind. ‘What would Campanella do if he is in my place?’ ‘How would he answer if he is here right now?’ Some would mistake it for characterization and yet there is no meaning to this form of characterization. The reason is because Campanella exists in a time and world which are different than ours; knowing how he will act in our present reality doesn’t help to bring him out in the play. As a matter of fact, it might even turn out counterproductive—”

“And yet, Giovanni managed to teach Araya-kun to move on.” Yonagi smiled, pained.

Even for a second, Araya’s breath was stolen by the clear struggle that was reflected in her iridescent eyes.

“…What are you trying to learn from Campanella by acting as him continuously, Yonagi?” Araya wanted to ask. “I’ve hardly moved on. Even now, I’m just as hung up over him as ever.” He wanted to grumble.

Caught between both desires, he succeeded in doing none when Yonagi beat him to the chase—

“It’ll be okay, Araya-kun. I definitely will protect Iwao-san’s play with all my might. This is just a step to doing that. Right now, it’s still too early in the run to let go, but…”

Yonagi’s face returned to her normal, determined petulance and she took a second look at him before smiling again. This time, it was her normal smile, determined, slightly childish, slightly silly, and above all, simple-minded to the point of idiocy,

“Just have faith in me as a fellow actor, Chameleon Actor!”

She smacked his back.

“…” Araya stood still in place. He remembered that smile she made back when they left the party boat. He remembered the tears she didn’t shed back in the hospital.

A second look at that dim-witted smile of hers gave him nothing but a questioning hum.

Araya sighed. He’ll be damned. He couldn’t read her thoughts at all.

“…Yonagi,” He finally called out to her after a long while.

The oven binged to signal the food’s done. Yonagi was just pulling out the trays when she craned her head up to him, confused, “What is it?”

“…” Araya faltered, the words dying in his mouth. He wouldn’t lie. Thoughts of exposing her bad habit of smiling when lying had occurred to him, yet it would be a pain if she became better at hiding after this. He wanted to respect her resolution as an actor – He was the same way – yet he didn’t want to lose her to the edge. Not when said edge was Campanella, who embodied Iwao’s ideals and mindset to such a precarious extent.

 _“Shut it already.”_ He had told the imaginary Iwao’s voice in his head this morning. When he looked at Yonagi, he wondered whose voice she was hearing – was it Campanella’s, or was it Iwao’s—?

“…I’ll pay for the ingredients, but I don’t know a thing about cooking. …Is it okay if I return here for my three meals a day?” Araya ran a hand down the side of his neck.

The look Yonagi sent him was decidedly patronizing.

“Well, if you could get here in time for all three meals, then sure.” Yonagi pursed her lips all like a stern, motherly brat.

Araya smiled and side-eyed her beguilingly, “You could just offer shelter to me as a set—”

“No can do.” Yonagi chimed up.

The least he could do was watch over her by her side.--

.

Day 3

\--He woke up stinking of alcohol on his lips, yesterday’s practice clothes still a stench on his back. There was a pleasant throb in his temples when he numbly pushed himself upright. His shoes had been pulled off his socks and were neatly settled at his doorstep. If he remembered accurately, the shop owner had been sympathetic to his (bluntly put) plight when he went solo-drinking at his and Iwao’s usual ramen outlet.

… _Oh._

The Chameleon Actor looked out that tiny window again in time with the cries of the cicadas.

_It’s his funeral today._

.

And he was alone again.

.

“Araya-kun, are you okay?” Yonagi peered at him with soul-reaching, Campanella eyes at the end of the play.

His entire being cried. (But that was Giovanni.)

Loneliness was an emotion he knew how to portray, because he had gone through it before. Loneliness was an emotion he knew how to portray, because he was going through it now.

Loneliness was what enraptured the audience this time. Because even if it was only for a few seconds, Giovanni’s pain as he struggled to take care of the Mother who had taken care of him overshadowed the delight he showed in Campanella’s presence. It wasn’t until the lights went out and flickered on again, that he successfully summoned all the delight and joy he once felt in Iwao’s presence. And he was barely able to relive the happiness of meeting him.

Araya was silent for a moment.

“Yonagi, are _you_ alright?” He eyed her through narrowed eyes in return.

Everyone’s performance showed some form of waning today besides hers.

Hers… was the very same picture and depth of emotion as on the first day.

But that lack of hesitation – that metronome, clockwork precision felt worrying instead.

Sunken blue eyes eyed her with piercing sharpness.

What was she keeping herself from showing in her performance?

Campanella smiled, and even for a fraction of second, it struck Araya to know he thought of her as Campanella, rather than Yonagi.

“Rather than worrying about me, I’m worried about everyone.” Yonagi looked up at the clock. She rose to her feet. “It’s about time for the wake—”

“Yonagi.” Araya called out, voice rough, both from amplifying his voice onstage, from pleading, and from choking on his emotions back then, not wanting to let him go.

“…Yonagi,” He repeated again. He might very well have reached out and taken her arm again, for how she swivelled around to peer at him after a note’s pause. Araya peered at her from under his bangs, murmuring a warning, “We’re no longer on the galactic railroad.”

Yonagi stilled, delicately, ever so slightly. And then, she smiled, pained.

“Of course we aren’t.”

Araya followed her back with smoky eyes as she went off to change. He sighed, closing his eyes shut as he clasped his hands together and wrestled the bubbling rage again at that loose, open ending Iwao left Galactic Railroad as.

_It would be so much easier if Giovanni had shown the way to go after Campanella’s death._

But that way of thinking, he supposed – flicking blue eyes up and peering darkly at his own reflection of Giovanni in the mirror – was why he shouldn’t follow Yonagi’s lead. It’s bad enough for him to be dragged around by Yonagi while she’s in the midst of her self-antagonizing experiment. The troupe didn’t need both their leads pulling them under the waters at a time like this. He was better than this.

…But why was he allowing Yonagi to do this, if this would have been a weakness for him?


End file.
